I Pulled My Best Friend Out of the Sky
by dozefallsdownthestairs
Summary: Fanatical, twelve-year-old scientist, Alfred Jones never meant any harm. He hadn't meant to pull out one of Arthur's feathers, causing a chain reaction the likes of his dog shedding. And leaving him with the oddly scientific, disgustingly romantic journey of getting an angel back to heaven. Angel!Arthur/Nerd!Alfred. Middle school AU.


**Hey, all! For any who read my stories, this week will be a bit crazy with postings. Or at least I plan for it to be. I have a lot of free time :P**

_**Things to know for this story: **_**My headcanon for Alfred is that he was a total dork in middle school. In this story, his dad is an astronaut away on a mission to Mars, so he lives alone with his mom. He wants nothing more than to be a space ranger when he grows up.**

**Arthur at this point is a failure of an angel. Poor buddy. You'll see why. **

**And Matthew got stuck being a dog. Sort of. **

* * *

><p>"Control, this is Commander Alfred Jones. Do you read?" Alfred whispered excitably into his makeshift radio. The flashlight gleamed under the covers where he hid, flickering a bit because it was nearly out of battery. "Mission control? Control, do you read?... Mattie, are you paying attention, boy?"<p>

His dog raised its head blearily, having dozed off at some point during Alfred's regular playtime script.

"You know I taught ya to push your paw down to the talkie button when I say Mission Control!" Alfred pouted until Mattie gave a huff and obliged him. It was only out of the knowledge that future treats would be withheld if he didn't.

"Yes!" Alfred beamed and ruffled his Newfoundland's giant black mane. "But if I was really in space, my eyeballs coulda been sucked straight outta my skull by now, and my brains through my nose. One small hole and... _**bam**_!..." He shouted clapping his hands suddenly together and causing the dog to jump and scramble away.

Alfred frowned when the covers slipped off his head, watching dismally as Mattie weaseled open the door and escaped. "I would die." he mumbled forlornly, cursing himself for being so loud.

His mom appeared in the doorway not too many minutes later, looking hassled and embarrassed. She eyed her son's staticy bed hair with a mixture of irritation and impatience. Alfred straightened his Buzz Lightyear pajama shirt.

"Honey, what are you still doing awake?" she said wearily, dressed in her going-out dress. A wine glass sparkled dimly in her fingers. "Don't you have your presentation tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I was practicing." Alfred pushed his tilted glasses more up on his nose. "Wanna see? I fixed my radios n' everything." He held up the tangle of wires proudly, so that a bunch of his controls crashed to the wood floor. "Ooops."

"Alfred, I'd love to, but you know I'm about to go out with some friends." She hardly had time for him anymore. But he understood. He was the man of the house, now. "Night babe."

"Night ma." He scrabbled to his feet and began collecting the scattered plastic bits.

Tomorrow was going to be so absolutely epic! He'd been working on his science project for _weeks_. It was going to be a real live enactment of what it was like to be launched in a space shuttle! He'd paper mached one for decoration, drawing in all the little knots and twists and bolts with care. Then he'd built himself some two way talkies out of his old Blue's Clues alarm clock and used his mom's c.d. player to play rocket noises. Together it would all sound like a shuttle, and he knew that every boy in his class would think he was the gosh darn coolest for ever coming up with anything so awesome.

He gathered the wires and spread them across his desk, careful not to knock over any of his shuttle models. Ma had asked him why he didn't just bring those and save himself the trouble, but there was no way he was going to let the boys at school ruin what his Dad had helped him make.

Remembering suddenly, he spun back around, mounting the bed and jerking the silent dog whistle out from around his neck. He tooted it loudly so Mattie would know this was important. He threw open the window and adjusted his small telescope. The big one was out by the lake and he could only use that one when Ma wasn't in the house since she didn't like him gallivanting at night. This one sucked, but if he adjusted it right...

Mattie came bounding up on the bed next to him and he twisted his fingers sleepily into the dog's fur. "There it is, buddy. See." He held the telescope to Mattie's eye, smiling when the dog stilled to look.

"He's up there right now. Someday I'll be just like him and fly a shuttle to Mars. Someday." Alfred scrubbed a fist under his glasses, yawning. He felt Mattie's big wet nose nudge at his shoulder, prompting him to bed. "Yeah, I know it. I just really hope this goes well tomorrow. Mom said that Dad said he wanted to meet my friends when he comes back, so I gotta get some. That's the first mission."

He smiled goofily as the dog flattened itself across him, in finality. "Thanks for helping me get ready. I know you get all sorts of bored with my space stuff. Nobody at school really cares either..."

Mattie lifted his giant head, blinking knowledgeable brown eyes.

"You think it'll look cooler if I wore my space helmet?"

Mattie made a huffing noise.

"Too much? Really? I thought it was a good idea. Whatever you say." Mattie nudged him in the face, reminding him to take off his glasses. He dropped them onto the side table and smiled. The blotches of the fake stars on the ceiling still glowed bright without them.

o o o

The next day Alfred trooped through the gravel to where the school bus would pick him up, counting his supplies nervously out loud. Mattie trotted beside him, Alfred's sack lunch in his mouth.

"I brought the c.d. player right?" He panicked before realizing he had it under his arm. "Right. And the talkies? Where are the talkies? Do you have them? Oh, right, they're in my backpack."

His father's giant NASA t-shirt bagged around his knees. His space-themed tennis shoes lit up every time they hit the ground. Around his neck were all the essentials: Mattie's dog whistle, a key to the house, the key to dad's car (so he could give it to him when he came back), and an expired all access pass to Kennedy Space Center that had been for his ninth birthday.

He was twelve now, in a class full of burly thirteen year olds. Alfred hadn't quite hit his growth spurt yet, which made it hard when they were picking teams and the other boys stood in front of him so that he was always last. Even after Feliks, the nose picker.

But today, that was about to change. His project was going to be the most awesome, crazy amazing science project in the history of seventh grade science projects. He could already see the abject worship on all of their faces, and with a little luck, Toni and Basch and the others would totally invite him to sit with them at lunch.

His shoes kicked up gravel as he started to whistle. "Didn'tcha know, Mattie? The cost for a space suit is 11 million dollars? Just for one? Of course, that's mostly for the control module and the backpack thing. The gloves alone cost-"

Mattie interrupted him with a sudden bark, coming to a halt near the small gravel path branching from the main road down to the lake.

Alfred stopped too, adjusting the straps of his backpack confusedly. "You need a whiz, boy?"

Mattie shot him a truly condescending look, before woofing softly and edging into the tall grass. Alfred hesitated. "But I can't be late today! You know that! It's important. What about my project? Hey, wait!"

Alfred tripped along behind him, hefting the c.d. player up more into his arms. Of course, he and Mattie went down to the lake all the time, to use his big telescope, but not when he had school. Any time he got the bright idea to try and ditch, Mattie would grab onto his shirt seam and drag him to the bus stop, where he would stand guard until Alfred was safely aboard. Mattie had never made him late before.

"Do you smell something, boy? Is it a meteorite for my collection?" Alfred pushed up his glasses, suddenly excited. "I can show it to Dr. Leo, yeah, when dad comes back, and he can analyze it for me! Do you think he'll bring me a Mars rock, Mattie? That'd be so awesome. I just wouldn't know wha- Woah."

Alfred's tennis shoes skidded a bit as he came to a slippery halt at the base of the path, staring. Mattie raised his nose up to sniff the wind. The trees creaked eerily, making Alfred swallow and squeeze the player even tighter to his chest. Slowly he sank down to his knees by Mattie.

"Who is that?" he whispered, his voice catching.

Over by his telescope was a young boy, wearing what looked like a set of sheets, toga style. Alfred thought he was just dressing up or something, but it was weird that he obviously had no clothes on underneath. A pair of wings glistened beautifully in the sunlight. They looked very aerodynamic, and Alfred wondered if the boy had ever tried to use them before. He certainly would, if he ever designed something sweet like that.

Squinting, Alfred tried to figure out how he'd attached them. The feathers looked certainly like real feathers. The boy retracted them into himself, so that they were folded neatly. Maybe a lever? A switch? When he shivered in the wind, his wings shivered too, which was certainly fascinating. Were they grafted on? Alfred wondered. Like extra limb technology? Robotically?

The boy, buttercup hair whipping about his face, was standing on tiptoes, trying to peer through the lens of Alfred's giant telescope. He had cupped the end of it, tracing the metal with wide eyes, like he'd never seen anything like it before. Hovering over his head was a ray of light, or not really a ray... more like...

"A halo?" Alfred blinked. "How'd he get it to stay up there like that? It's translucent, too. That doesn't make sense, Mattie. Even if he suspended a tubular-"

Mattie shoved his head in Alfred's face, causing him to choke on a mouthful of fur. Hearing the noise, the boy by the lake jumped and jerked backwards. Something like fear glimmered in his vivid diamond green eyes, that made Alfred feel awful for startling him.

They stared at each other. Alfred was surprised he didn't try and take off or something. Literally.

"Hey," he began sheepishly. "That's my telescope. You like it?"

The boy took a step back from him, brow furrowing. He raised his fists warningly.

"I don't mind you looking at it." Alfred said, slipping forward. Mattie tailed protectively behind him. "In fact, I'll show you how to focus it if you want. It's day time, so there's not much you'll be able to see. But there's birds to look at, in the trees and stuff." He smiled, coming nearer, suddenly excited to show someone his favorite toy. "See, look, you twist the end like this and the other one like this... yeah. There. Try it now. There's a blue jay in that tree over there. You can see her nest."

He stopped turning the dials, waving towards the boy in the costume with a grin. "Come on, try it."

Frowning, the boy inched forwards, glowering at him cautiously. He reached up with pale fingers, sending Alfred one last angry look, before putting his eye to the scope.

Alfred's lips twitched when he jumped away just as quickly looking afraid. His cheeks went red, eyebrows disappeared in his fringe. "She can't see you," Alfred promised, waving a hand. "She's up in the trees over there."

The costumed boy took a moment to compose himself, his eyes accusing Alfred of not warning him about this. He leaned forward tentatively again and began to watch. His mouth slipping open in awe.

Alfred grinned, "Yeah, my dad bought me that for my last birthday. It's a lot of fun. My name's Alfred by the way. I live in the house not far from here with the solar panels and the automatic bird feeder. What's your name? I've never seen you around before."

The boy looked up, watching him and saying nothing. Alfred began to wonder if he could speak at all.

"Well, those are some cool wings you've got." He went on, undeterred. "Have you ever tried to fly on them? They look like they'd work really well."

Blinking in shock and looking rather flattered, the boy ducked his head. He shrugged his shoulders, running his fingers down the silky edge of one of his wings.

"I'd be really proud if I built a set like those," Alfred inched forward curiously. "Would you mind if I touched 'em?"

The boy stumbled back. He started to shake his head, but catching Alfred's gaze, he bit his lip. He held out his hand then, and Alfred eagerly put his own in the boy's, which was cool and dry and unusually soft. The boy guided Alfred's fingers to brush against the top strand of white feathers. Alfred's mouth opened in surprise.

"They're so soft," he murmured, feeling the fronds quiver at his finger tips. Looking up, he saw that the boy's face was even redder than before. They were nearly nose-to-nose this close.

"Can you spread them out?" Alfred asked, taking a step back.

He did without hesitation, looking like he was proving something. His wingspan was taller than he was, and the way he tilted his chin upwards meant he was expecting a compliment.

Alfred whistled, and he knew this was a bit of a stupid question to ask, because, of course, the wings couldn't be real. But. "Can you fly?"

The boy snorted, the first sound he'd made this whole time. His ironical gaze accused Alfred of being horrendously stupid.

Alfred crossed his arms defensively. "Hey, just cuz something has wings doesn't mean it can fly, wise guy. Look at penguins and ostriches and... and platypuses! Anyway, there's no way those are real. It's a cool invention, but it's just a costume."

The boy opened his mouth and blustered indignantly, kicking at the gravel with his sandal.

"You saying you can fly?" Alfred asked. He'd gotten quite good at reading body language from reading Mattie. "Prove it."

Immediately, his tirade stopped. The boy twisted his fingers together, shaking his head back and forth ever so slightly.

"What? You don't want to?"

He nodded.

"Why not?"

He crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Just cause is not a good answer," Alfred smirked. "You can't."

The boy glowered angrily. He could.

"Prove it then. What's the matter? Chicken?" Alfred waited with raised eyebrows and then blinked in surprise when the boy's shoulders drooped a bit, his face going even redder. He kicked at the gravel forlornly with his sandal.

"You are chicken." Alfred realized, ducking when the boy suddenly threw a spray of gravel his way. "Oh come on, man," he said, "if I had wings that might- okay _do -_" he corrected at the boy's glare. "work then I'd want to try 'em out. Don't you wanna fly?"

This only served to make him angrier and he turned his back, stonily. Mattie slipped forward from behind Alfred going up to nudge the costumed boy's fingers. The boy hesitated, before resting his hand atop the dog's head, looking lonely.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll use 'em some day. They're way too cool not to use." Alfred assured, coming forward to stand by him again. "What's your name anyway? You never said... you can talk, can't you?"

His odd diamond eyes met Alfred's. "I... I'm not supposed to." he said in a soft whisper and Alfred was shocked by how melodic he sounded, like the moment before a song began.

"Well, you can talk to me. I won't tell on you." Alfred promised blindly. "What's your name?"

"Arthur..." he murmured hesitantly.

"That's a cool name. I'm Alfred," Alfred said again. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Dressed like what?" Arthur scowled indignantly, pulling at his sheet toga.

"Like in a dress with wings?" Alfred pressed and then flinched backwards in shock when Arthur smacked him on the cheek.

"I'm an angel, you idiot. And this is not a dress, it's a scavenging outfit. I only got separated from my group."

"Scavenging?" Alfred asked, intrigued enough to forgive the slap. "For what? Food?"

"People." Arthur corrected irritably. "They should be back in a moment to find me."

"Why can't you go find them?" Alfred asked.

"As you seemed to have figured already, I don't fly." Arthur sniffed, ironing out his dress again.

"At all?"

"No."

"But you have wings. How do you get on being an angel and not flying?"

"I get on perfectly fine, thank you very much. They should be here any minute to retrieve me and I shall be on my way." he turned his back on Alfred with crossed arms and Alfred just stared.

"You're not really an angel... are you?" He asked after a few minutes of silence.

Arthur sneered. "Of course, I'm an angel. Are the wings and halo really not enough for you? Humans are such blithering idiots. I honestly don't know why we bother."

Alfred frowned. "Well, you're pretty mean to be an angel. Don't you work for God?"

Arthur's face burned an unbearable shade of red and he gritted his teeth. "I'm an excellent angel, Mr. Alfred. And I don't like it very much when people who don't know anything at all spout nonsense about me."

"Why are you calling me mister? How old are you? You must be the same age as me. I'm twelve."

"I am not twelve." Arthur said as if that were the most insulting thing he'd ever heard in his life.

"Then, you're thirteen." Alfred said, and grinned when Arthur didn't say anything else. "Can I touch your wings again?"

"No." Arthur said shortly, sidestepping his hand.

"Why not? They're soft." Alfred half-whined.

"That is entirely inappropriate," Arthur jumped away from him, red faced as Alfred lunged.

"Why is it inappropriate?" Alfred cornered him by the lake.

Arthur crossed his arms, flustered. "It simply is. I don't know how to explain these things to you."

"You let me before. Come on, I'm a scientist. It's what I do." Alfred begged.

Arthur scowled at him, taking another step backwards so that the lake lapped at his heels.

"Please, I just want to see how they work. I swear." Alfred held up his right hand.

Arthur finally relented when the water was up to his ankles.

Alfred combed his fingers lightly over the feathers again, watching them quiver in fascination. "This is amazing," he murmured when Arthur spread them out for him and he was allowed to trace his finger all the way from the tip to the sinewy part where it connected with his back. "They're real..."

"Of course, they're real. High grade, too. I have one of the largest wingspans for my age, I'll have you know." He snipped haughtily, watching Alfred warily as he petted them.

"They're really cool, man." Alfred laughed. "Were you born with them?"

"You are stupid, aren't you?"

"No, I mean, did they grow in? Like are you born without them and then they grow in? Or are you born with really small ones?"

Arthur's cheeks pinked, "I don't know. That's a bit of a personal question."

"Is it? I'm sorry," Alfred apologized, circling around him curiously. "Do you guys go to school and stuff? I just thought you'd know your own anatomy?"

"Of course, I know my own anatomy," Arthur scowled. "That's insulting. And yes, we go to school of sorts."

"Do you learn how to fly and stuff, there?"

"N-no."

Alfred looked up in confusion to hear Arthur's voice stumble.

"Usually," he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You learn and your parents teach you. Before you come to school."

"Oh." Alfred nodded. "Like potty-training."

"No, not like potty-training," Arthur blustered, face going even redder. "L-like..."

"Walking?" Alfred supplied, making Arthur scowl harder and fold his wings abruptly into himself. "Why didn't you learn then? Didn't your parents teach you?"

Arthur sniffed, "There's nothing the matter with walking."

Alfred blinked. "But didn't your friends all-"

Arthur stiffened marginally at the word 'friends', so Alfred fell off smartly. He was silent for a minute, wondering if Arthur was mad at him. He didn't have many friends himself, so he felt it wise to try to keep an open mind.

"Well, it's not like they still don't look pretty cool," he offered, stroking his fingers through the feathers one more time.

Arthur's expression softened a bit, and he shrugged in mock-humility. "They're wider than my older brother's."

"That's cool."

"And I haven't ever lost one feather."

"Not one? Do you guys shed?" Alfred murmured curiously, making Arthur roll his eyes.

"No, not often. Usually, you only lose one if you're inadequate in a task. They never grow back at home, but there's legends that they can grow back on earth."

"Woah." Alfred grinned. "You're pretty cool then, right?"

Arthur ducked his head in pleasure. "Not really. I mean, I'm just strong."

"That's awesome," Alfred beamed, holding his hand out and Arthur spread his wing compliantly for Alfred to touch. "I'll bet you'd be a really good flyer, you know. If you tried."

Arthur blushed. "You t-think so?"

"Shucks, of course." Alfred smiled, feeling Arthur's wing push harder against his hand, so that for a moment his fingers were completely lost in the feathers. "These are really thick, so I'd imagine, you wouldn't have any problem with harsh wind or rain or anything. They feel waxy, too, so they probably are water resistant. Which, as I know from studying birds can be a recessive trait."

"R-recessive?" Arthur murmured curiously.

"Usually, recessive is rarest." Alfred explained. "Like... your eyes."

Arthur's fingers slipped up to brush his eyelid self-consciously. "What about them?"

"They're green. That's really rare as a human eye color. Brown is the most dominant and therefore the most common. Green and blue, like yours and mine, are recessive and in most areas of the world are actually quite rare." When Arthur continued to stare at him blankly, he smiled. "It means it's special, unique. Like how every star in the sky is just that different from the next one."

Arthur's face turned even redder and he shifted from foot to foot. "Oh. I see."

"Yeah," Alfred smiled, scratching his wing curiously, like he would the top of Mattie's head. "Can you feel this?"

Arthur shivered, "Of course, I can feel it, prat." He didn't retract his wing though, so Alfred kept scratching trying to gauge his reaction.

"Does it tickle?"

"N-no. S-stop."

But Alfred started grinning, when Arthur leaned subtly into it. "You like it."

"I don't."

"Does it feel like a back rub or something? What if I rub... here?" He moved his hand upwards so that he was a lot closer to Arthur and he could feel the bare skin of his shoulder as he rubbed.

"S-stop," Arthur hissed, but he was practically drooping now. Alfred grinned, because he'd found his special spot, so to speak.

"Do they have massage clinics up in heaven?" He asked thoughtfully. "Like if you strain yourself flying around down here or something?"

"There's therapy," Arthur mumbled with his eyes half-closed. "Not for pleasure, though."

"That's a shame," Alfred smirked, glancing down absently at his watch, the feathers trickling like water through the gaps between his fingers. "Oh crap!"

"Wh-what?" Arthur failed to hide his disappointment when Alfred's hand slipped.

"I've gotta go! I've gotta project to give. Crap, crap, crap! It's twelve minutes till Mr. Adnan's class! Why didn't you warn me, Mattie? How am I going to get to third hour on time now?"

Mattie barked an irritating stream. It wasn't his fault! Alfred scrambled to grab his c.d. player and find his backpack, his lanyard of keys and dog whistle bouncing rapidly against his chest. Mattie went scourging through the tall grass, coming back with Alfred's lunch. Alfred started to run off, knowing he'd have to take the whole road at a sprint to reach the little school house in time before the class ended.

"W-wait," Arthur's voice stopped him halfway up the path, and he turned back.

"Wh-where are you going?"

"I've gotta get to school for a project, Art!" he hollered, holding his c.d. player up. "It was great talking to ya! I'll add you to my logbook of incredible sightings! Tell your group hi from Alfred F. Jones future space ranger when they pick you up. Later!"

"W-wait, stop." Arthur stepped forward, quickly. "Alfred, d-don't... leave me by myself."

"I don't have time, Arthur. They'll be back for you soon, you said that. Just stay here. Over and out, alright?" He laughed, feeling adrenaline burst through his veins as he cleared the rest of the path eagerly. This was going to be the best day ever! First, he'd had a conversation with a real life legendary creature. Talk about the brink of scientific discovery! And now, he'd be delivering a project that would knock the socks off his whole seventh grade class.

He hopped up on the gravel road, but seeing a semi trundling its way down at a bit over the speed limit he wisely stepped back into the grass, Mattie beside him.

"Alfred! Stop!" A voice from behind him caused him to glance back. Alfred's mouth opened in shock when Arthur went running past, not seeing him in the tall grass.

"Arthur!" He yelped and without thinking grabbed him by his wing before he could run right in front of the oncoming truck. With a fistful of Arthur's feathers, he tugged him back into the grass and they tumbled over each other backwards into a ball. Mattie barking loudly.

"What are you doing?" Alfred panted, when they finally collapsed in a crumpled heap. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do I-"

But Arthur suddenly decked him straight in the face and he fell silent in shock. His fingers ghosted over his pounding cheek, mouth open.

"What the heck was that for? I just saved your stupid life, you butthole!"

"You ripped out one of my feathers," Arthur pointed out sulkily, looking downright babyish. Alfred looked down at his fist where, indeed, one of Arthur's brilliant white feathers glistened between his fingers.

"That is the stupidest, most dumbest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. I just save you from getting cremated, moron!"

"You just ripped out one of my feathers, imbecile!"

Alfred's lip curled in disgust. "Seriously? You're such a jerk. Like I'm ever going to help you out again. I hope they all fall out."

Arthur sputtered indignantly. "Well, I hope you die... a-and go to hell!"

"Good!" Alfred spat back. "Then I wouldn't have to see you! Ungrateful butthole."

Arthur scowled furiously. "Yeah... well..." His eyes fell on Alfred's backpack where his paper mache rocket had remained somewhat intact. Before Alfred could stop him, he gave it a sharp kick, sending it spinning into the road. "I hope your dumb project fails and that you look stupider than you already are."

Alfred's back stiffened and his jaw set. That was too much. "You're the worst angel, I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" he shouted, ignoring the way Mattie tugged at his sleeve. "You can't fly. You're not nice. And everything about you sucks! No wonder they left you behind. Stay away from my grandma up there. I don't want her to have to deal with your stupid face."

He stormed off furiously, trying to hold back stupid tears. His rocket was ruined! He was late. Now, the other boys would never want to talk to him. Not with a dented rocket. He wasn't cool enough. And now he never would be.

He heard Arthur give a little hitched gasp. Served him right. What a baby.

But something about the way he sounded like he would cry made Alfred turn back anyway. And his eyes widened in shock. All in a tumble with the swish of some fateful breeze, Arthur's gorgeous silky feathers fell, quivering like leaves in a swash of white that disappeared before they even hit the ground. Alfred's mouth slipped open as his words from before echoed on the retreating wind: _I hope they all fall out._

"Oh no..." he said, watching as Arthur flung his arms frantically around himself, trying to feel his back. His green eyes glazed in shock and he dropped to his knees, running his fingers through the dirt and twigs, like he could pull them all out of the ground. The only one that remained was still crushed in Alfred's fist.

"What did you do!" Arthur shouted at him. "You broke them. You b-broke them. Now, they'll never find me... I never meant to say those things... Can't you tell... I didn't want to be alone... in a strange place... they didn't even realize I was gone..."

Alfred watched in shock as the halo on his bowed, golden head glimmered once, twice, and then flickered out. Slowly, Alfred picked up his crumpled space shuttle from the road, completely caved in.

"You messed up my chances of ever having friends," he mumbled, throwing the stupid thing back in the road. "We're even. It wasn't like you were using them anyway."

Arthur couldn't even look at him, and he realized something. Alfred F. Jones, future space ranger, was really great at launching things into the sky. But he'd never been met with a challenge so hard as getting an angel back to heaven.

"Of course, I won't leave you here." He mumbled grudgingly, feeling the odd pull at his heart. "Look, I'm not the greatest scientist, but I'm sure we could figure something out... I... I'm sorry."

Arthur didn't get up, trying to hide the fact that he was crying by ducking his head. "Y-you don't understand. I m-m-might as well be..." he shuddered, "_human."_

"Hey," Alfred said, indignantly. "There's nothing wrong with that! And..." His tone softened and he came to crouch by Arthur, picking at dandelions on the roadside. "Didn't you say that feathers could grow back? Maybe they will, right?"

Arthur sighed, "That's a legend."

Alfred shrugged, "Doesn't mean it didn't happen. You know what kangaroos are right?"

Arthur rubbed a bit at his dripping nose. "Yeah."

"Well, back before Australia was really explored, everyone in England thought that explorers were making up myths about creatures with heads like deer, that walked on two feet like men, but hopped like frogs. Some of them were said to have two heads! One coming from the top and the other coming straight from their stomach! It wasn't until someone dragged a dead corpse to 18th century England did anyone even believe they existed." Alfred smiled warmly at Arthur. "Don't discount a legend. Half the time they're true."

Arthur swallowed, giving his watery eyes a final scrub. "W-well, maybe. If I can just come into contact with some of the others, I can get back. And then... go from there. ...I guess... it's not really your fault. I don't know how it could be." He added, blushing at the end.

"I'm sorry, anyway," Alfred offered him a hand, standing. "We'll figure this out and have you back up in no time. Trust me." He cocked his head and grinned.

It was really sort of tragic how he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the read! Any support is much appreciated. TBC?<strong>


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